A/N: Please read before reading the fic! First, let me tell you that this is not the kind of fic I usually write. But the idea had been in my head for awhile and I was just waiting for my muse to return to me. This idea being: what if Sinbad got even more darker than in season 2?

As I see things, Sinbad was heading back toward being more of his old self at the end of Hell House. But not in this fic.

I should warn you that maybe you won't understand all that happened in the fic. And that's how I want things. Sometimes, not knowing is better than knowing. Let your imagination try to figure it out. I'd be interested to see what you came up with! :>

As always, comments and critics are welcome. Like it? Hate it? Let me know. Even flame me if you feel like it, but don't except me to be nice about it!

By Crystal

Black heart. Dark soul.

The remaining light faded away in a recent past. Nothing left but the anger and the desire for revenge. No emotions showed in his eyes. Eyes who used to be as blue as the sea, now as dark as the night.

Gone was his white shirt. He still wore his black pants but a black shirt now matched them. No more beard. It got too often tainted with blood. His hair was as long as three years ago, although they were now in a ponytail. He didnít care how he looked or if women were attracted to him. It was just a waste. He wasnít interested anymore.

He didnít speak, only to give orders. The sword he used to protect so many innocents with was now only used to slay. The ship he guided to travel and collect treasures was now only searching. Searching for revenge.

Searching for release.

He barely remembered a time when he felt happy. What did it mean, happiness? A word he would never understand again.

A smile. How did one smile? What was the purpose of smiling? He couldnít find one.

Love. So painful when it was lost. When it was taken from you. He never wanted to feel it again.

Life. Why were people living? He thought he once knew the answer, but he forgot.

Besides, what did it matter? Those questions were useless to him. He had one goal and one goal only: avenge the dead.

So close now.

He tried to forget the past and focus on his mission, but so many faces were dancing in his head. Faces he would never forget. It started as one, but again and again, others joined the first one. His failure. The newest was the clearest, eyes flashing in the darkness of his head. So many regrets he had to deal with.

He closed his eyes. His body was tired and he felt old. Even though he barely was thirty.

Barely? Already.

It seemed like yesterday that his parents died in a sea storm, that Lea fell off that cliff when he was just a kid. It seemed only hours ago that a half of himself disappeared, leaving emptiness. And it seemed a moment ago that he found himself all alone.

Life had passed before his eyes and he had stood there, watching it go away. Nothing he could do to make it come back. To turn back time.

He still lived with body, powered by his anger he had bottled within him during these years.. It was almost time to let it all out. Almost.

He opened his eyes and glanced at his hands. Hands who killed so much. Monsters. Evil sorcerers. People whose only crimes had been to fight for what they believed. Hands that were at first sight white. But he saw them red. Dark red. And a pool of blood at his feet, his sword tainted with it, drops falling on the green grass. Red on green. And red hands holding the sword. More red. Everywhere around him. Inside his head, covering the faces.

He noticed the shaking of his hands. They shook every time he thought about the past. Almost time to end it. Almost.

His eyes then moved to his wrist, where the rainbow bracelet used to be. Gone now. When a holder died, the other bracelets became useless. They learned it the hard way. He had been so shocked to see it fell on the ground. Now, he could see it fell again in his head, slowly, twisting, screaming, glowing one last time. The sound it made when it fell on the ground had echoed in his mind for so long. And still.

Still echoed in his dreams.

He held back a sight. He had to stop thinking about the past and focus on the future, on the battle soon to come. Regrets would be of no help. Still, it was ironic. If Master Dim Dim wouldnít had been sent to that other dimension, everything wouldíve turned out fine. If only he had been able to save him, the world wouldnít be what it was right now.

Chaos. Half of the world population was dead, killed by black magic. The other half struggled to survive.

No more sun. Dark clouds hid it day and night. Black magic work. A year ago, when his minions stole precious objects from him, including his mother medallion. That was when the sun disappeared. Since then, no more stars. At first, it had been hard to navigate without them, now he just followed his instincts. And the smell.

He went on deck and noticed that a strong wind had started to blow. His three crewmembers were working, one at the tiller and the other two on the ropes. He found them a few months ago in a dirty tavern. It had been the four of them for a little while now. He hadnít gotten close to them; they hadnít gotten close to each other. They were all after revenge, which was why they remained here. The reasons, he didnít know them and didnít care.

They were getting closer to the enemyís lair. He didnít need to tell his crew; they all felt it. The evilness in the air. It smelt even more now than before. Also more powerful. The only person that maybe could have killed him wasÖgone, because of him.

But he had the key to destroy him once and for all. The price he and his whole crew had to pay to obtain the key had been high. If he could throw it away and get back all he lost, he would do it. But it wasnít how it worked. Since he had it, he was going to use it. In memories of the faces haunting his head and dreams, waiting for revenge to finally be able to rest in peace. No more waste.

He could now see the island with the high, dark mountains. Near those mountains, there was a cavern leading underground. To his hair. Very soon.

He would fight, he would win with the help of the key and the suffering would end. For the world, for the lost ones and for himself.

To finally have his revenge. To save the world one last time.

No more Sinbad the sailor. No more Sinbad the master of the seven seas. No Sinbad, the legendary hero. No Sinbad, Captain of the Nomad. He was just Sinbad. Just a name. Who would fade away.

Will it be remembered?


Or will it be forgotten?


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